


Shades of Blue ~ Royal

by bluedawn



Series: Shades of Blue [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multi-Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:34:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedawn/pseuds/bluedawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth, has had a long few weeks.  Rescued from her parallel universe by the Eighth version of the Doctor, brought by him to his Ninth version "accidentally" and now, finally she hopes, back in her proper timeline, little does she know Time's got one more Doctor up its sleeve and he's hurting, too.  Third installment in the "Past, Present, Future/Shades of Blue" series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eleven I

Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth, shopgirl of the Powell Estate, Companion of the Doctor, had had a long few weeks. She had, quite literally, bumped into the Eighth version of the Doctor on the street in the middle of her parallel universe, gone dancing with him, left her family and the parallel universe behind, danced with him and then been forced to say goodbye to him as he faced the imminent call of the Time War. Then, he had taken her to his Ninth self, the broken, broody version she thought she’d lost forever, immediately after the War and she helped him heal, bought him his jacket, held his hand, danced with him and then been forced to say goodbye to him as he set out to find her for (her) first time. 

Oh, and she’d fallen in love with him. Well...again, anyway.

And now, here she was, poised to open the door to yet another TARDIS, hoping to finally be back in her correct timeline with her Doctor. Well, no. That wasn’t quite right. She had decided, in the course of the past few weeks, that all of the Doctors were hers, even the ones that didn’t know it yet. Her Doctor with the chestnut curls and fast laugh. Her Doctor with the heartbreaking eyes and fabulous ears. And now, finally, her Doctor with the great hair and the unstoppable gob. 

Fitting her key in the lock and giving the door a great push, she stepped into the console room and gasped. And then groaned softly to herself.

“Oh bloody hell,” she muttered. “Not again.”

Up the ramp to this completely new console room, there was a young man, tall and lanky, leaning back in the yellow captain’s chair by the railing, his large, booted feet sticking out from too short trousers propped up on the console. 

At the sound of the door opening and her voice, he startled and, to both of their surprise, fell from the chair rather ungracefully to the floor. Rose thought he was lucky not to have fallen down off the raised platform but she still hadn’t moved from the doorway. Who was he?

The man bounced to his feet and straightened, looking for all the world like a cat pretending to have fallen off the chair on purpose and then moved to the top of the ramp to stare at her.

“You impossible thing,” he started. “How in the world did you -”

“Right. Ok. Here’s the deal,” Rose said, interrupting. She was a bit tired of this situation, as fun as her jaunt through past Doctors had been, and really, all she wanted to do was find the Doctor and get to her proper timeline. “My name’s Rose Tyler. I’m...well...I’m a friend of the Doctor’s and I’m not from this time. Judging by the console room, I’d say I’m probably from the past. Anyway, it’s complicated. Timey-wimey. But if you’re travelling with him, you probably understand that. Bit keen to get back where I belong so if you could just point me in his direction, I’ll be off. Oh, and if I’m wandering around here someplace and I really, really hope that I am, it’s probably best if I don’t run into me. Ta!,” she rattled off at a very impressive speed and marching up the ramp toward the still startled looking young man. 

If she was in the market, she’d say he was rather good looking in his own unique way. She liked the way his brown hair flopped over his eyes and the geek chic of his maroon bowtie. There was a tweed jacket carelessly laid over one of the railings and she could only assume it was his. A raggedy maths professor, she thought. She, however, was not in the market or at least she hoped she wasn’t and so she dismissed all those thoughts as quickly as possible.

Intense green eyes peered into hers as the man came closer, approaching her as if she was a skittish animal of some kind. That thought made her want to laugh because really it seemed that he was the skittish one, all long limbs that didn’t seem to want to coordinate with each other. It was sort of cute. He raised an eyebrow at her and she frowned. Why did she keep thinking things like that?

“Rose...it’s me,” he whispered when he’d gotten close enough to touch her but hadn’t. “You know me.”

Oh.

Looking into those beautiful emerald eyes, she could suddenly see the age that he so often tried to hide. All of time and space shining out at her through his eyes, no matter the colour. She reached a hand out to lay along his (rather prominent) jawline. He sighed, closing those timeless eyes and almost nuzzled into the touch, surprising her again. “Hello,” she said softly.

He opened his eyes almost reluctantly. “How did you get here?” he asked. “I left you with Donna for the week just like you asked -” he started.

“What?” Rose asked, broken from the spell of his presence. “Who’s Donna? You brought me here. To the wrong you, apparently. Again,” she added. 

“I didn’t...oh.” The Doctor took a closer look at her, at her outfit and the heavy red pack on her shoulders. “Oh,” he repeated. He began to laugh. “Well. I always was a rubbish driver in that body,” he said, laughing again.

To his surprise, Rose withdrew her hand from his cheek and it was all he could do not to chase the movement. She frowned at him. “Rose?” he asked, growing more serious.

“You can’t be the Doctor,” she said.

“Rose, I am. I’m sorry. I just regenerated again and -” He was growing more agitated. Not this Rose, too. He couldn’t handle that.

“Nope, sorry,” she said and suddenly he saw the slight twinkle in her eye. He relaxed incrementally. He knew that twinkle. He knew her better than he knew himself these days, probably always would.

“And why’s that?” he asked, deciding to play her game.

“Because he would NEVER admit to being a bad driver. In any body,” she said, grinning her unique tongue-touched smile at him.

He laughed again, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Maybe I’m just more honest this go’round. You know, that was quite the introduction that you gave yourself. If I was anyone other than me, I’dve thought you were barking,” he said, moving closer to her again. Rassilon, he needed to touch her. He needed a lot more than that, but he settled for laying his hands on her shoulders.

She snorted. “Well, what was I supposed to say? ‘Hello! I’m Rose Tyler. You don’t know me but I’ve just popped up here after being rescued from a parallel universe by a past version of the Doctor (who, by the way, I fell in love with and then shagged. Did you know he does that? Because I didn’t.) who then took me to a future version of himself, one I knew but before I knew him, who I then re-fell in love with and then shagged and now I’m trying to get back to my proper timeline, to the version I was in love with when I got separated from him and am hoping to, very soon, fall in love with again and then spend the rest of my life loving and shagging, along with whatever other versions of him come popping along in the future. Also, we have some sort of mysterious mind bond-y hocus pocus going on and I’d really like to find him because my head feels empty when he’s not there. So, any questions?’,” she said, grinning at him again briefly before he grabbed her to him very closely and enveloped her in a tight hug she hadn’t been expecting.

After a few long moments of standing there locked together with him tightly, Rose patted his back, confused by his desperate hug. “Doctor? What is it?” she asked quietly.

“Just something you said about the future,” he murmured into her hair, very reluctantly disengaging himself from her warm arms. Focus. He needed to focus. “Wait, a moment. Mind bond-y? Hocus pocus?” 

He trailed off and in a move familiar to her, started pacing and hopping around the center console murmuring to himself. “You mean you don’t know? How can you not know? But...the book. You’re the one that gave me the book. If you don’t know how are you supposed to tell me...oh,” he finished, fiddling with his bowtie, completing his circuit of the room to stop in front of her, still for the moment, like a coiled spring.

“Oh, you astonishingly brilliant sexy you,” he said, laying a hand on the console and then lifting his head up, staring at her with interest, intense green eyes fixed on her once more. 

“What?” was all Rose could manage. Was he talking to her or to the TARDIS?

“Both of you!” he shouted, delighted and began dancing around the console again. “Don’t you see, Rose? I have to give you the book so you can go back and give it to me then so I can give it to you now! It’s a time loop! We’re a time loop! And it’s almost complete. It’s not an accident. Never was. Me meeting you back in my Eighth body didn’t CHANGE Time. It’s just the way Time has always been. After this, I’ll take you back to me, the one in your proper timeline, you’ll forget this...except the important bits that you have to tell me so I can tell you and then, eventually, we’ll be here!” he finished, grinning delightedly, the smile lighting up his young, boyish face.

“Oh! And it explains why you buggered out this morning, demanded to go to Donna’s. You were remembering. That’s why you dropped your bacon on the floor. I was worried I was rubbish at cooking again. It wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything. I thought you were angry...well, maybe you are. I’m not sure. But this time, it wasn’t my fault!” he said, taking a deep breath and opening his mouth to start talking again.

Rose couldn’t have that.

She had managed to get close to him during his ramble, dodging and ducking around his erratic movements in a dance familiar to her from his last body, although this one seemed a bit less graceful. She reached out, grabbed him by the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his. 

Surprised as he was, the Doctor had no idea what to do with his hands for a moment. They flailed about as this new mouth, teeth and all, struggled to remember what it was supposed to do. Luckily it only took a few seconds for his Rose-instinct to kick in and, quite suddenly, they were turned around so she was pressed into the console and he was using his considerable years of kissing-Rose-Tyler-experience to make her knees buckle, held up by his strong arm around her waist. Even if they’d have to re-learn what he liked, he knew exactly what she liked and used mercilessly against her now, lips moving, tongue stroking, teeth grazing. 

He really needed to stop this now. But he didn’t want to. Especially because this Rose’s shields were completely down and so her mind was pouring over his, unfiltered and bursting with love and desire for him. He caressed her mind with his and heard her groan. He really should stop. 

He didn’t.

Finally, Rose broke the kiss, pulling back from his desperate onslaught gasping for breath. His lips tried to follow hers as she pulled back.

“You still talk a lot,” Rose said, dryly, once she had her scattered thoughts back under control. That was one hell of a kiss. This Doctor was a bit shorter than the one she had just left and a bit taller than the one she’d kissed before that, all in all making him the perfect height for her to feel just how much the kiss had affected him as well.

“Yes, I..” he thickly, trying to get himself back under control as well, reluctantly retreating from her a few steps. “Sorry about that.” 

“Sorry? Doctor, that was bloody fantastic!” Rose said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

“Was it? Oh, that’s good. I can still kiss then. I was worried about that,” he said, looking relieved and running a hand through his hair.

“You mean you haven’t...we haven’t?” Rose trailed off. All this work to get back to his Tenth self and, a whole body later, they still weren’t even kissing?

“Oh, no! We did then. Great kissing. Brilliant kissing. Starts happening right away, in fact,” he said, waving his hands around. "But...not since...well,” he trailed off mournfully. “It’s been...complicated since I regenerated,” he said, the sorrow evident in his voice. Rose’s heart broke for him. No wonder he seemed so desperate for her touch. Apparently future her had been pushing him away. She wondered how that was even possible. 

“How long has it been?” she asked, quietly, afraid of his answer. 

“A week,” he sighed heavily.

Rose laughed in relief and his head rose sharply to scowl at her slightly.

“What’s funny about that, Rose?” he asked. Honestly. A century and a half and he’d never understand the woman.

“A week?” she asked, incredulously. “You’re getting stroppy over a week? Doctor, we spent three weeks walking on eggshells around each other and puttering around the Powell Estate the last time you regenerated, remember? The day after Christmas you couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

“But that was before!” he said. And he’d had good reason for that little bit of post-Christmas shame. But she’d find out about that later. He remembered. “We were only engaged then and our bond was all wibbly-wobbly! We’ve got a full marriage bond now. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and the rest of the human-type sentiments, not to mention the Gallifreyan ones.”

“Engaged?” Rose gaped at him. “We were not engaged then!” She paused. “Were we?” 

“I...well,” he stopped and fidgeted with his tie again. Must be one of his new tics, she supposed. His hands flew off the tie and he scowled lightly at her again.

“I do not have tics,” he said. 

“I didn’t say that out loud!” Rose exclaimed and it was her turn to scowl at him.

“Didn’t have to,” he said. “Full marriage bond on my side and you’re not shielding.”

“Oi!” she said, yanking her hand from his and slamming up her shields. He cringed at the sudden void in his mind where she usually resided, his marriage bond with his own Rose still there but quiet and distant at the moment since she was so far away and shielding heavily and the bond uncompleted in the Rose in front of him.

“Rose -” he started and she crossed her arms in front of him.

“Nope,” she said. “Not til you start explaining things. Starting with ‘engaged’.”

“Could we go to the library? This is going to take a while,” he said, tentatively holding a hand out to her and looking at her hopefully. And he’d eventually need to get her that book. But it could wait, for now. For now, he could just enjoy her company.

Rose sighed. “Ok, then. But only if there’s tea,” she said, smiling at him and taking his outstretched hand as the TARDIS thrummed happily, assuring her there would be tea.

He sighed at the contact and her shields weakened a bit, giving him just enough contact to sooth the clamor of the bond. “Very good. Come along, Tyler.” 

In the library, which hadn’t changed except for the thick, fluffy rug in front of the fireplace, Rose was pleased to note, there was a roaring fire, a tray of tea and a fair amount of Jammie Dodgers waiting for them on the table in front of their favourite couch. Rose patted the wall nearest the door in thanks and the TARDIS sang back to her with a warm yellow wave of ‘you’re welcome’. Watching this new new new Doctor closely, she noted that he placed a bit of milk and one sugar in the tea. Leather him had preferred his tea with lemon and Pinstriped him had, of course, dumped as much sugar as possible in the mug. She grabbed her own mug and settled a few of the biscuits on her knees, crossing them and turning to face this unfamiliar him.

He did the same, turning one leg up and sipping his tea. “We seem to have a lot of our important conversations sitting like this on couches,” he commented.

“Engaged?” she prodded.

He swallowed down an entire Jammie Dodger before looking back up at her. “Do you remember Coricana?” he asked. Rose smiled and he reveled in both the expression and the warm flood of memories that surrounded him from her. “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” he said, smiling back. He felt Rose tense and her shields began to creep back up but he reached out and laid his free hand on her knee, trying not to displace her precarious biscuit stash there. “Leave them down?” he asked, quietly. “Please?”

She reached out to him tentatively with her mind, still unsure of the mechanics of their unfinished (for her) bond. Rose focused on his mind, now a beautiful royal blue and smiled both mentally and physically. Not the bright cerulean of Eight or the dangerous navy of Nine but his own shade, happier than before but still carrying the weight and grief of the worlds. She wondered what his Tenth self would look like. She couldn’t wait to find out. 

He sighed once again at the contact. His bond had been screaming at him all week, reeling from the internal and external threats on it and Rose’s continued confusion and resistance. Rassilon, how he’d missed her.

“Ah, yes. Coricana. My Eighth self tried to explain to you what it meant back then but, poetic coward that I was, I suppose it wasn’t very clear. ‘A promise of forever’, ring any bells?” he asked. 

Rose’s eyes widened in acknowledgement. “So you’ve been engaged to me the entire time I’ve known you?” she asked, laughter and surprise in her voice. Boy, what would her mum have thought about that?

He shifted uncomfortably and blushed adorably. “Well, yes,” he said. Before he could register the emotion and intention from her mind, her palm connected with the side of his face. “What was that for?” he sputtered, somehow managing not to spill scalding tea all over his own lap, but just barely.

“Kissing another woman while you were engaged to me,” she said, fiercely. 

Ah. Well, he probably deserved that, then. And a few more for the others he hadn’t told her about. But he wasn’t about to tell her now. He distinctly remembered Tenth him facing her wrath on that note.

“And for making me engaged to you without really asking,” she added thoughtfully. “Not that I would have said no,” she said.

“My Ninth self did his best to propose to you, if you remember, Rose, even though we were already technically engaged. I think he just wanted in on the action a bit.” Rose sighed to herself, remembering his apology and what had indeed, at the moment, sounded to her like a proposal. Apparently it had been. 

His merry green eyes twinkled at her. “And I’ll have you know, Rose Tyler, that even putting aside Coricana and my confessions to you in the library, during the course of our travels we were married or at least engaged, oh, probably at least fifty times on various planets in various ways before we got separated. We’re up to something like 643 now. It’s a bit of a hobby.”

She gaped at him and, for moment, he thought she might slap him again. Instead she laughed. “Remember Oienzaes VIII?”

He joined her in laughter. The two of them had been unknowingly cast as the lead roles in a fertility ceremony, been stripped of their clothes and shoved into a dark, locked room together to copulate and emerge as the married souls of the planet’s primitive gods. Finally, with a little ah, erotic, voice acting on Rose’s part and an incredible amount of restraint on his and they’d managed to fool the natives into letting them go, although it had taken a royal declaration from their goddess to get their clothing back (and thus to get the Time Lord out of the darkened room) and a mighty fast run to get them through the following, quickly developing orgy. Jack hadn’t stopped laughing for two days straight. Once he’d come back to the TARDIS, that is. Poor Leather him had barely managed to look her in the eye for the next week and not just because he kept seeing her naked. He also kept reliving the fantasy of those sounds coming from her for real.

“Remember?” he asked. “How could I forget? That became my new favourite fantasy for quite some time. You looked gorgeous...just like I’d imagined you would. Or remembered, I suppose,” the Doctor finished, growling slightly. His mind wasn’t the only part of him that was desperately seeking her out. This new body craved her just as much as the other two, demanded the touch of his bondmate and he hadn’t had nearly enough of it yet. And that memory, distant as it was for him, still flared in his mind with his arousal and hers.

“You said it was too dark to see anything!” she replied, punching his leg lightly. His breath caught at the contact. 

“Time Lord, Rose,” he reminded her.

“I couldn’t see you,” she pouted. He merely shrugged nonchalantly and went back to focusing on his biscuits.

“So...you’ve got one up on me then,” Rose said, when he raised his eyes to meet hers once again, eyeing him closely with an expression he was fairly certain he recognized. 

“What?” he asked, licking his lips and watching Rose follow the movement with her eyes.

“You’d seen me naked and I hadn’t seen you,” she said. “And I think that means you owe me.”

“What?” 

“Take off your bowtie,” she said, calmly. 

“What?” he repeated.

“That makes you sound like last you, you know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Take off the bowtie.”

She watched him closely as his long, nimble fingers undid the bow of his tie and slid the fabric from under his collar. The thin strip of fabric was quickly discarded the floor. He unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt and massaged his throat lightly, aware that Rose was watching each movement with the intensity of a cat stalking its prey.

“I seem to remember you undressing me at least twice while I was unconscious, Rose,” the Doctor responded casually from his end of the couch. He hoped casually. He was going for casual even if his rapidly beating hearts were betraying him. “Doesn’t that mean you owe me?”

She tilted her head to the side, considering letting him change the rules of her newly minted game. He watched as the considerations played behind her eyes and resisted the urge to look at her thoughts. This was a game best played on the outside.

Just as casually as he had been pretending to be, Rose shrugged out of her jacket, letting it drop to the floor on top of his bowtie. Lucky bowtie. “Fine,” she answered. “But if we’re going down that route, Doctor, I believe there were a number of times that I fell asleep in the console room and woke up in my bedroom. In my bed. Under the covers. Magically in my jimjams,” she finished. “Which means...braces,” she commanded.

He obligingly unclipped them from his waistband and shrugged them down off his shoulders, letting them drop on top of her jacket. Opening his mouth to speak, Rose shook her head. “Not just the console room, though, was it, Doctor?” she asked, her voice going low and smooth and Rassilon, he didn’t know how he was still sitting on this side of the couch so far from her. “Seemed to happen a lot, that did. The library, the MedBay, the kitchen, the media room...” she trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him as he blushed again. This Doctor blushed a lot. Or maybe it was that he was so pale it just showed more in the flickering firelight. Little did she know, he was mentally remembering all the times she and he had done a lot more than fall asleep in all those places.

He bent down to untie and discard his boots and socks and when his head came back up again it was with an evil smirk. “You’re right, Rose. It did happen an awful lot. Almost like you planned it that way...” he trailed off, delighting this time in her blush. He knew she had. They’d had this conversation already...but this Rose hadn’t.

She ducked her head to hide behind a curtain of blonde, untied her own trainers and removed her socks, stretching her legs out so her toes rested against the shin of the leg he had propped up on the couch. He rubbed his cool hands together for a moment and then reached out to pull one of her extended feet further into his lap. It was a comforting, calming practice for him...a custom between the two of them to come in here after an adventure and unwind, him massaging her feet in his lap, them enjoying each other’s presence in the firelight. Sometimes he would read, sometimes she would doze, sometimes they would make love in front of the fire. Or on the couch. Or on the table. Or against the bookshelves...the list went on. 

The larger question was...would she still want to? His proper Rose? For all intents and purposes, she practically had to but there was little telling how much damage had been done to their bond and how long that damage would linger. This business with their bond was bothering him and his unexpected regeneration had him worrying over Rose’s reaction.

“Do you want to talk about it?” her soft voice came from the other side of the couch and for a moment he forgot that she wasn’t his Rose.

“It’s complicated,” he said, softly, his hands still moving over the tender muscles of her foot.

“It always is with us,” she said, smiling gently at him and then closing her eyes and moaning slightly as he found a particularly good spot.

“You got captured. They used our bond to hurt you, to make you hallucinate and they tried to break it,” he said, grimly. “You were in so much pain and so was I...It’s not meant to be broken,” he said, vehemently. “It can’t be broken and when they tried to sever it...it wasn’t good. For me or for you...or for them,” he finished quietly.

She nodded. Maybe this was some of the stuff she was supposed to remember to tell him later. 

His hands transferred to her other foot. “We have a full marriage bond. It’s an old custom, ancient even to me, from a time long before Rassilon brought the Time Lords out of the Gallifreyan ‘dark ages’. As I told you before, there was a time in Gallifreyan history when a male would claim a female in order to keep her bound to himself and himself alone, locking the two’s biological signatures together. It was called a mating bond. The bond kept the pair from mating with others and, indeed, generally proved to make all other attempts not only ineffectual but also painful. On rare occasions, however, there was more to it than that. Most sentient species, including Gallifreyans, have some concept of love, the idea that a pair bond can exist on a higher plain than merely the physical. If the bond initiated was backed by a mutual feeling of love and dedication of the highest order, a full marriage bond could be achieved.”

Soothed by his unfamiliar yet familiar voice and the gentle ministrations of his hands, Rose reluctantly opened her eyes when he stopped speaking. “And what does that mean, exactly?” she asked.

“Gallifreyans are a telepathic species and we spend our whole lives carrying links to one another. Remember when I told you I would be able to feel if there was another Time Lord out there? Back in that bunker in Utah?” Rose nodded sadly. “I would have felt the link to another member of my species practically anywhere in the universe. A marriage bond is similar to that except instead of sharing a surface connection, a light telepathic link, the two have a total, complete sharing of the minds. The link is more than an external connection, it’s a part of who you are. A part of me in you and a part of you in me. That’s what makes the bond so strong. I’m with you all the time and you’re with me. Thoughts, feelings, memories, the very core of who you are and who I am, all caught up together. My attraction to you was and is so much more than a physical one, although the mating portion of the bond contributes to that. I don’t just want you, Rose. I need you. Which brings us to the secondary part of the bond.”

“The marriage bond ties the life spans of the two participants together. If you died, the part of me in you died and so then...I would die or at the very, very least...go completely mad. Took the ‘til Death do us part’ bit rather serious, Gallifreyans did. Which is why things started getting complicated when Rassilon and the Time Lords emerged. With the ability to regenerate, the bonding became much more complicated. The lifespan of a Gallifreyan, while long, compared to a Time Lord was just too different and the bond always takes on the length of the dominant lifespan, enabling the lesser species to live just as long as the Time Lord partner. Rassilon decreed the bonding between a Time Lord and a Gallifreyan forbidden, punishable by permanent death for them both. For the most part, by his time, the practice had become rare anyway...love like that is almost impossible to find,” he said, softly, looking into her eyes with such deep devotion, Rose had to blink back tears. He gave her a small smile and then continued. “Pythia’s curse and the inability for our people to reproduce naturally defeated the purpose of the mating bonds and so bonding fell out of use quickly as passionate emotions were buried under Time Lord restraint and it merely became a quirk of the past, barely worth a mention in all but the most ancient, most detailed historic books.”

“And you have one of those books?” Rose asked, sighing slightly as he released her foot and merely let his hands trace light circles on her ankles. “That’s how you know all of this?”

“I do. You gave it to me when I got you back because, apparently, I’m going to give it to you now,” he said. “I think someone has known about this all along,” he said, raising his eyes to look up at the ceiling.

Rose felt the thrum of the TARDIS increase around them, washing her love and purple affection over them. Relaxing and letting her link with the TARDIS come to the forefront of her mind, Rose was suddenly deluged with the golden essence of the TARDIS. She felt herself ancient, wide and expansive with all of Time and Space as her domain. She felt herself waiting, waiting for her pilot, for her thief and she felt her joy at his arrival. She felt her bond with him, her love for him and she felt her grief for her Sisters and for his People. She saw his future need, their future sorrow, their future salvation. She would push him, mold him, love him and someday, his bondmate would emerge, created for him and for her. Their timelines would cross and mingle and they would need her help, silly creatures that they were and help she would for she loved them both. Both of them a part of her and her a part of them. With one last purple brush of affection on her mind, the TARDIS released Rose into the impatiently waiting royal blue of her mate.

Rose opened her eyes to find herself lying on the floor in front of the fireplace with a nervous looking Doctor straddling her body, hands on her temples.

“I really wish you two wouldn’t do that,” he said, moving his hands from her temples to her chest, staring down into her eyes. He sighed heavily and suddenly noticed the crimson blush covering Rose’s face in the glow of the fire. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked. He’d left his screwdriver in his jacket pocket but he could go get it quickly if he needed to...

She coughed slightly. “Err...yes,” she mumbled and her eyes darted down to where his hands were, quite comfortably, resting rather intimately on her chest and his hips were pressed to hers without a concern.

“Oh! Right!” he said. “Not mine yet,” he said, scrambling off her, all flailing limbs again. 

Rose propped herself up on her elbows to watch his inelegant retreat to sit at her feet, long legs crossed comically. “I think you’ll find, no matter what our current or future relationship, Doctor, that those are mine,” she said, sticking her tongue in her teeth and raising an eyebrow at him challengingly. 

He stared at her a moment, firelight flickering over her familiar features, teeth just slightly stuck into her lower lip, flirty, seductive and wanting him and he snapped. Moving from his position at her feet to slowly stalk up her body with a panther-like grace she never would have expected from him, his hands travelling under her shirt as his mouth descended toward her ear. 

Each of his hands took one soft mound and began to knead and pull through the lacy fabric of her bra as she felt his warm breath on her ear. “And that’s where you’re wrong, Tyler,” he whispered. “You’re mine, remember?” he said, letting his tongue wander into her ear as his hands wound their way under her bra, pushing it up as far as possible and bringing both peaks to attention while he drove her crazy with his teeth and tongue on her ear. He pulled back from her far enough to pull the tshirt over her head and then forced her up so he could unhook her bra, which was quickly discarded somewhere on the opposite side of the library before carefully laying her back down again.

“Front-hooking bras, Rose. You’ll learn,” he said, nuzzling her next and placing a string of wet kisses down her collarbone toward her right breast, finally reaching it and winding his tongue around the pert nipple there. He wondered if this body would get as much enjoyment out of these activities as his last. Adding a bit more pressure from his teeth and pinching the other side with his fingers, Rose let out a low, deep moan and he found he didn’t much care as long as she kept making sounds like that.

He continued his torment until she writhed underneath him and he let the breast go with a pop. “See?” he said, caressing it lightly, letting his fingers draw the moisture from his mouth across the darkened peak. “Mine,” he whispered in the high Gallifreyan that he knew would ignite the claim in their mating bond. Rose gasped as the white hot link, his command and claim, burned into her mind, flared and she felt a wave of desire course through her so strong that she thought she might almost come. He grinned at her cheekily from his position halfway down her chest. “And this one?” he whispered, drawing his tongue over it roughly and then placing a sweet kiss there. “Mine,” he whispered again.

Rose’s hips bucked off the floor to collide with his, taking him by surprise and knocking him down on top of her. He laughed again and propped himself back up, letting his right hand linger on her stomach, while his left busied itself divesting her of her jeans. Her trousers off, he resumed his light touches, ghosting over her hips and thighs, applying just enough pressure for her to whimper in need of him but none in the spot she wanted him most. He was driving her arousal higher and higher than she’d ever imagined possible. How was he doing that?

“One hundred and forty seven years of experience,” he murmured, lowering his head back to her neck and nipping lightly there on her collarbone.

Rose’s mind reeled with that (and with what his clever fingers had just done, skimming over the silk of her knickers ever so slightly). No wonder he wanted her so much now. She could only imagine what an old bat she looked like at one hundred and seventy. To her surprise, his head came off her neck and his hands left her body as he began to laugh. He rolled over onto his back, clutching his sides leaving Rose confused and feeling a little bereft. 

“What’s so funny?” she asked, sitting up and drawing her knees against her chest.

“You!” he gasped between fits of laughter. “And you’re always saying how vain I am!”

“You are vain!” she said. “Or at least you were.” He sobered slightly at that comment but then exploded again.

“Old bat!” he sputtered through his hysterics. “Oh, you’re so never living that down!”

Rose gazed down at the shaking, prone man and decided she had approximately three options. One: she could frown at him until he stopped laughing and explained to her what was so damn funny. Two: She could tickle him, helpless as he was to defend himself from her at the moment or three...

She chose three and his laughter turned quite suddenly into a surprised and elongated moan. “Rose,” he panted, chest still heaving but she didn’t think it was from laughter anymore. She squeezed him again in response, tracing her fingers up the silhouette of his erection through his trousers. Leaving one hand to stroke him, her other went up to undo the button and zip of his too-short trousers and left him only long enough to pull both the trousers and his pants off, returning immediately. Her hands were tracing one right after the other up his proud, stiff erection, twisting and stroking, chasing his ripples and his hands were flailing again, trying to find purchase in something, anything since she was too far away to touch. They settled on fisting in the plush rug and he moaned again as his hips rose off the ground to follow her hands.

“Rose,” he panted. “Rose. Stop. New body. So sensitive. You. Ohhhh,” he broke off as one of her hands traced down to cup his balls instead, squeezing lightly. “Been waiting all week. Want to come inside you. First time. In you. Need your heat. Please,” he mumbled and one of his hands rose up to run through his floppy hair as he fought to keep his hips still.

Rose considered him for a moment. It would be easy and she thought fairly quick to finish him off like this but the knowledge that he’d held off all week even though the urge had obviously been so strong just so he could be with her for the first time made her want him there too. That and she really, really wanted to be doing that to his hair instead of him. She let go of him and he almost sobbed, though in relief or regret, she wasn’t sure. She helped him remove his dress shirt and then very quickly she found herself on her back, knickers off and a Time Lord erection poised at her entrance. “Please,” he said and she nodded, drawing her hands up to press against his back and then into his new, fabulous hair. His lips met hers with a burning passion and four deep strokes later his icy seed was pouring into her, wave after powerful wave. Before he was done, he pulled out of her, letting the rest spill onto her stomach as his hand replaced his member, plunging into her, curling fingers and searching thumbs and very quickly her body hummed with his actions and she was close, so close, keening as he suddenly removed his fingers and plunged his only slightly softened shaft back inside her, desperate to feel the tightly clenching walls of her screaming orgasm around him, rewarded with it almost immediately.

Both panting and spent, he rolled off her to the side and when she finally opened her eyes, his darted away. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking embarrassed.

“About what?” she asked, confused. What in the world could he possibly be apologizing for after that?

His green eyes widened. “It’s a new body and so sensitive and I’ve been wanting you all week and I’m afraid my control wasn’t there. Went off like an idiotic youth before you even...I apologize,” he said again, wanting to roll away from her. 

Her hearts surged with love for him. She caught his shoulder and forced him to face her instead. “Doctor, it’s sweet of you to feel that way but that was still great. You took care of me and blimey, I’m impressed that it was so quick as it was. Magic hands, you’ve got there,” she said, trying to ease his ego.

He preened a little bit and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, lots of experience as I said. I’m very studious,” he said. And making Rose Tyler scream was one of his very favourite subjects. 

“So, one hundred and forty seven years, huh?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t start laughing again.

His eyes twinkled but he didn’t laugh. “Don’t worry, you’re still just as beautiful as you are right now,” he said. 

“How -” she began but he pulled her lips to his and she forgot her question for a moment. 

“Can’t tell you. Spoilers,” he said, grinning mischievously, pulling her over to drape on his chest, seeming completely comfortable in his nakedness with her. Well, she supposed, he probably was. “Went through a faze, a few years back, where we tried walking around here naked,” he said and she started. She kept forgetting he could hear her thoughts. 

“And?” she asked.

“And...we never got anything done. Don’t think we left the TARDIS for two weeks straight. In the end, for the safety of the universe, we decided clothing was mandatory,” he said, brushing her hair back from her face and placing a light kiss on her forehead.

She traced light patterns over his chest for a few moments, simply enjoying the double thrum under her hands and the comforting press of his body on hers. “Is the first one always that...strong?” she asked, suddenly, almost startling him from the peaceful doze he’d slipped into.

“Rose Tyler, you minx,” the Doctor said, grinning down on her. “You tell me. You’ve been around me, literally, for three out of the last four,” he joked.

Instead of laughing, he felt her stiffen and her hands stopped their wonderful light traces over his chest. He worked his way through the statement and then saw, quite clearly in Rose’s mind, who she thought the other had been with as she sat up and locked her arms around her knees.

“Oh, no! No, no, no, Rose!” he said, scrambling to sit up.

“S’okay, Doctor,” she said in the voice he knew quite clearly that mean ‘it’s not okay’. “I know you fancied her,” she sighed and all of her inadequacies reared their heads at him. Rassilon. He’d forgotten that Rose, this Rose, didn’t know all of his stories, didn’t know how he felt about her, didn’t know...

“Rose, I did not sleep with Reinette. I didn’t love her and, yes, she kissed me but it didn’t mean anything. She took me by surprise and I was fighting with my feelings for you and I punched myself for it. Did you know that? I don’t think I ever told you back then,” he said, stumbling over his words to try and make her understand. 

“You didn’t have sex with her?” Rose asked, wanting desperately to believe him but not quite. 

“I did not,” he replied, rising to his knees in front of her and cupping the sides of her face. “And even if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t,” he hastily added, “I wouldn’t have been able to. At that point for me, I’d claimed you and you’d claimed me even though I didn’t know it then. Just being kissed by her felt wrong and remember what I said earlier about the mating bond? About it rendering other attempted mating ineffectual?” he said, leaning on the last bit meaningfully. Last him probably would have just blurted it out but this slightly more old-fashioned body didn’t want to spell it out for her.

“Oh,” she said. “You mean you couldn’t...” she gestured down below him in the general vicinity of his bits. 

“No,” he said. “My arousal is biologically bound to you,” he said, glad that she’d figured it out on her own.

She let go of her legs and he gathered her to him in a tight hug, feeling her shiver slightly even with the fire right there. “Hold on,” he said, standing up and striding across the room to a large comfortable chair covered in a soft, warm blanket. He brought it back over to where they were sitting and wrapped her up in it, drawing her back down to lay on the soft rug with him, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Funny how it always felt as though it belonged there, no matter the crook, no matter the shoulder.

“What did you mean you punched yourself for it?” Rose asked after a minute. He had been studiously blocking out her thoughts, letting her work through the situation without his prying, as hard as it had been.

His chest rumbled slightly as he laughed. “Didn’t you ever wonder how I got back to that spacestation?” 

“You wouldn’t tell me,” she said, prodding him in the ribs.

“With good reason,” he replied. “I managed to cobble together a communication device and sent out an SOS to all the past me’s, trying to get someone to come pick me up and get me back to you as soon as possible. Just so happened that the closest one was ol’ big ears,” he said.

“What?” she asked, incredulously. “When?”

“Just a few days ago for you. While you were in the library reading about Time Lord customs and I was out in the console room trying to figure out how exactly to make up for being such an idiot. As you can probably guess, those two versions of me didn’t get along very well...especially after I told him that Madame Du Pompadour had snogged me.”

Rose laughed, imagining the scene. “So when was it then? That first time?” she asked, returning to her original question.

“Ah, something else I can’t tell you, I’m afraid,” he said, teasing her and dropping a kiss into her hair.

“Why not?” Rose said petulantly. “I’m gonna have to forget all of this anyway, right?”

“Because, Rose Tyler,” he said, his voice going low and husky again, right next to her ear. “I remember, very distinctly the experience of telling you that story for the first time and I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.” She sighed into his chest and moved so her arm was draped over his waist and her leg was trapped between his. “C’mon then, little human,” he said, pulling her tight against him. “Go to sleep. I know you want to.”

“Fine,” she said, snuggling down into his chest. “But only because I want to, not ‘cause you told me to,” she said and he grinned. Somethings never did change.


	2. Eleven II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven and Rose spend a little more time together. Next chapter, we'll see what Future Rose has been up to on Earth.

Rose awoke several hours later, cocooned in a brilliantly soft, warm bed. She stretched and looked around, seeing her new, new, new Doctor sitting at a table a few meters away making something. As soon as he sensed her awake, the Doctor stood and walked over to sit next to her on the bed, offering her a warm, light kiss.

“Good morning,” he said, brushing her sleep-errant locks back from her face.

“No morning or night in the TARDIS, Rose,” she said back to him in her best approximation of a Manchester brogue, sticking her tongue in her teeth. Switching into light Estuary she then said, “It’s the temporal transducers. Inside the TARDIS, since we’re both in the center of time and not in time at all, in the Vortex that is, it’s a bit like Schrodinger said...both night and morning...ooo, Schrodinger. We should go met him sometime, even if he did have a bit of a cat-fixation. Never did like cats. Never trust a cat in a nun’s -” The Doctor cut her off with a scorching kiss.

“Ha, ha, very funny. I get it,” he said, pulling back to smirk at her. “It’s your fault, you know. You’ve gotten me into bad habits,” he finished, affectionately.

“Bad habits like being fully dressed when your, er,” she trailed off for a moment looking confused. What was she? Past version of his future lover?

“Wife?” he prompted, awarded with a still-slightly shocked expression that transformed into a wide grin.

“Wife,” she repeated and made the happy noise he loved, “is still naked?”

“Had to get something done while you napped away and didn’t want to do it naked. I forgot how much you used to sleep,” he said, pecking her on the cheek again before standing back up to walk over to the ‘Table of Tinkering’ as his Rose had dubbed it.

“Well, I forgot how much you like layers,” she grumbled, eyeing his tweed coat from across the room as though it were something offensive. He laughed and shed it, smiling at her.

“Hang on...used to?” Rose asked, rising up and wrapping the lovely burgundy sheet around herself to walk over to his table, which appeared to be full of tinkering-works-in-progress.

Grinning at her impishly over his shoulder, the Doctor answered, “Spoilers.” Rose rolled her eyes at him.

“Whatcha tinkering with now?” she asked, watching as he shoved a hand, then an arm, then his entire head and shoulders into a container sitting on the table that looked approximately big enough to hold a toaster. She shook her head. Bigger on the inside, of course.

“A-ha!” he cried from somewhere inside the container. Popping out with a smudge of grease on his admittedly prominent chin, he held up a green diode triumphantly. “Knew it was in there someplace!”

“New screwdriver?” she asked quietly, suddenly contemplative. She’d just seen the jumper-clad him make one a few days ago. Now that man was long gone and, apparently, so was the beloved tool that had gotten him such a brilliant snog for completing.

“How did you -” he started then saw in her mind and remembered asking her in his ninth body whether he should use a blue or green light on the end. “Ah. The other one didn’t make it through the regenertion,” he said sadly, nervously watching her.

“I like the claws,” she said after a moment, brushing aside her melancholy. “And the copper. It reminds me of the new console room.”

“I think the TARDIS had that in mind when she helped me get the pieces together earlier,” the Doctor said, screwing the diode in and then looking away from her to toggle the on-switch, filling the air with an electronic whir.

“Still makes a good noise,” she said.

“Of course it does,” he answered. “I know you like it,” the Doctor finished, watching her carefully over the top of the tool.

This was yet another change, something new to get used to that might jar her from him further. New Doctor, new console room, new screwdriver. But she merely smiled at him and he relaxed. “Made one for you, you know,” he said as she took the screwdriver from his hand and played with the newly installed claws.

“You did?” she squeaked, overjoyed.

“Well, it’s a bit more of a sonic pen...you said a screwdriver was too manly,” he answered, grinning back at her. And last him had been all about being manly. He’d had to search all over the universe to find a pink diode but the look on her face when he’d presented the sonic tool had been worth it. So was her smile right now.

Rose was holding the screwdriver out in front of her with the clawed end facing the precarious knot on her makeshift toga, examining the brass fixtures when the screwdriver activated suddenly and the knot dissolved, making her sheet fall to the ground. Squeaking again, this time for a different reason, she quickly dropped the screwdriver on the ground and bent to recollect her sheet.

“Well, that’s interesting,” the Doctor commented, calmly bending to pick it up off the floor once he’d finished admiring suddenly-naked-Rose.

“What?” Rose asked, readjusting the sheet and scowling at him lightly.

“It would appear that this screwdriver has incorporated a telepathic interface. I was just thinking about how much I’d like to untie that knot on your sheet and...there it went,” he said, thoughtfully and then he excitedly started examining the casing. “Didn’t mean to put one in...the TARDIS must have done it. I thought I seemed more telepathic in this body. Probably an influence of the bond. Oh, this is very exciting,” he continued, pacing around the table.

He continued to mutter to himself and point the screwdriver at various objects around the room until he felt a mental prod from Rose. “Rose, what....oh,” he said, turning around to face her. “Oh,” he repeated, dumbly. All the words in all the languages in all the universe and all he could manage was ‘oh’. Well, something never changed.

“All you had to do was ask,” she said, smiling at him coyly, stepping out from the sheet now pooled around her feet. She stepped closer to him, naked, confident and glorious and his arm fell to his side, the screwdriver forgotten in his hand. “Whatcha thinking about now, Doctor?” she asked, stopping just shy of him and letting her gaze linger deliberately on his trousers.

“Like you don’t know,” he said, his eyes on her lips as her tongue darted out to moisten them.

“Better show me,” she replied and just like that he was next to her, lips crashing into hers, hands roaming over her body. In a flurry his braces, tie, shirt, trousers and pants found their way unceremoniously to the ground and Rose found herself ceremoniously in the center of the bed. 

His mouth moved from hers to her neck, sucking lightly there, tongue laving over the almost healed brand his Ninth self had placed there during his initial claiming of her. Smiling to himself in memory, he moved slightly higher up her neck and settled on re-marking her as she wriggled distractingly underneath him.

The Doctor kept on his task until he was satisfied with the mark, pulling away to gaze at her, remembering the moment, oh, such a long time ago, when she had burst back into his life and things had gotten rather cloudy and then very quickly he’d discovered a mark, THAT mark in fact, on her, and suddenly things had gotten quite clear. Rassilon, he loved her. He would never survive without her and now he would never have to. 

By the time he released her neck with a pop, Rose was shifting her thighs together, arching up against him seeking some friction to relieve the ruthless arousal wringing through her. He was leaving a mark and she knew it...and she loved it. His soft lips moved back up to kiss her then moved away and she opened her eyes to look at him. This new, boyish face was looking at her as though she was the most dear thing in the universe and she was startled again how his expressions could transcend his faces...how green eyes lovingly shone the same as brown and either shade of blue. Smiling and blinking back a few sudden tears, she quickly turned her eyes from his to look down his body, distracted halfway down by his frankly magnificent erection and then she giggled suddenly.

“Hey!” he said mock-defensively, having noted her sudden tears, trying to get her attention back on his eyes. “No laughing at your man in bed.”

“You still have your socks on!” Rose laughed, then gasped as one of his hands shot forward, immediately and expertly finding her center and the other went for her right breast as he decided to head off her laughter at the pass. 

“My apologies, Ms. Tyler,” he said, seriously, moving so his body was over hers and his blunt, slippery tip replaced his fingers dipping into her, thrusting very lightly and letting his ripples move, not really entering her, just teasing. “Would you like me to stop what I’m doing right now and remove them?”

“God, no,” she mumbled and then reached down to grab his still-fabulous arse, pulling him into her fully. They both moaned as he slid in deep and she squeezed him hard again, feeling the increase in his ripples as she did so. “Like that now, do you?” she said, letting him pull out before clenching her hands again to accompany his hard thrust into her. That was her Doctor, all right. Fabulous arse and all.

“Yes,” he stammered. “Yes. Always have. Last body too. Remember, that, Rose. It’s important. Fuck,” he shouted, thrusting hard, straining against her and pleased to note the shiver through her body at that. Oh, he knew her well.

Taking her knee and hooking it over his elbow, he pushed back against her adjusting to a new position he knew she loved, using the other hand to grab the bars of the headboard behind her. More friction, more depth and the ability to go faster. He began thrusting into her, praising her with words she didn’t know the meaning of, not yet anyway, reveling in her words back at him. He moved in and out of her deeply, the hand not on the headboard moving between them. Her hands moved from his arse to his back, nails digging in and oh, he liked that too, if the increased speed in his ripples was anything to go by. He listened closely for the very familiar sounds of her impending orgasm and when they had almost reached their crescendo, he lightly brushed his mind against hers, activating the bond just enough to satisfy them both but not enough to accidentally interfere with the uncompleted segment of hers. She cried out beneath him, shouting her claim on him and he followed her immediately, echoing her cry with one of his own.

Panting, he slowly released her knee, soothing it down and removed his clenched hand from the bars of the headboard. The Doctor propped himself up on his side, his new floppy hair falling over his eyes and trailed his fingers over Rose’s heaving stomach, calming her as she followed him down. Eventually, she raised her eyes to his with a brilliant smile and then trailed them down to watch his left hand trace light circles over her stomach. 

“Never slept with a married man before,” she commented, raising her hand to stroke the simple silver band he wore on his fourth finger, noticing it for the first time.

“I should hope not,” he said, smiling down at her and interlacing their fingers. He raised their joined hands to his lips briefly and then returned them to bed. Rose turned to prop herself up and look around the room. 

She hadn’t really examined it before, asleep when he carried her in and having been distracted by the gorgeous man next to her in bed when she awoke, so she took the time now. The room was a mixture of reds and blues, accents of royal and navy fading into burgundys and dark pinks. The bedside table to her left had a hairbrush, a trashy novel from Fictoria Prime and a large vase of lilies sitting on it. The table on the opposite side of the slatted, iron headboard had a large book of quantum mechanics spread open and a grand number of bits and bobs (one of which looked suspiciously like the dial from a toaster) accompanied by a small white bag of jelly babies and about twenty scribbled post its. Both featured framed pictures of the two of them. 

“Our room,” the Doctor said softly, watching her take in her surroundings.

“It’s beautiful,” Rose whispered and the TARDIS thrummed happily. The room was an amalgamation of all his personalities and of the two of them combined. It was them and and it was perfect.

“That what you had in mind with the headboard, then?” Rose asked the ceiling cheekily out loud.

“Among other things,” he said, pecking her on the cheek and enjoying her slightly stunned look. 

Rose grinned. She always had had big plans for those silk ties.

Both the Doctor and she laughed when the TARDIS presence took on a distinctly embarrassed feel and then quickly faded to the back of their minds. The Doctor shook his head. Leave it to Rose to make his centuries-old timeship blush.

Sighing deeply, he sat up and began to pull his discarded clothing back on as Rose stood and did the same on the other side, examining the large wardrobe on her side of the room.

“So where are we?” Rose asked as she chose some clothing from the closet. Older her seemed to have retained the penchant for jeans and trainers although the hoodies had mostly been replaced with jumpers and blouses. 

“Talania IV,” the Doctor replied, buttoning his shirt cuffs and walking over to her with his bowtie hanging in two strips around his neck. Rose reached up automatically and began to tie it for him, which had been his aim. He COULD tie it himself but it was so much more delightful (and domestic) to let her do it for him. Almost as delightful as having her untie it. “It’s a whole planet of little shops.” He looked down at her and finished the last few buttons of her blouse up for her. “And you know how much I love little shops. Well, loved. Love? I’m not sure,” he said, furrowing his brow.

Rose reached up and smoothed away the frown lines from his face, going up on her tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose and then raised an eyebrow at him. “You came to an entire planet full of shops WITHOUT me?” she asked.

“We, future you and I, have been here lots before. You love it here,” he said, smiling, and began to walk from the room hand in hand with her. After a brief pause he said, “I thought...” then he frowned again and stopped.

“You thought?” prompted Rose as they reached the console room.

“I thought maybe I could buy you a present and that might make things a little easier when I go back to pick you up,” he said in a rush, releasing her hand and sitting down in the captain’s chair. Thinking about it now, it seemed like a dumb idea...as if a simple present was going to solve the issues between them. But he had been so desperate...“Seems silly now, I guess,” the Doctor finished, dejectedly.

”Sounds perfect to me,” Rose said, tugging him up from the seat.

“Really? You think so?” he said, following her lead out the doors.

“Yep! And I’m me, so I know I’ll like it,” she said, sticking her tongue in her teeth and turning to grin at him. She always loved it when he bought her something...from leather him to pinstripes. “And blimey, that’s a strange way to talk! The things I put up with for you,” she said, giving a fake heavy sigh.

“You love it,” he said, bumping her with his shoulder.

“I do,” Rose said and her eyes shone brightly at him, both of their deeper meanings shining through that silent communication. The Doctor watched her carefully. Here they were at different points in their timelines once again...his Rose hadn’t said those magic words to him yet, this him anyway, and her Doctor hadn’t said them yet to her at all. But soon it would all straighten out and they would both have their happily ever after.

Well, the same happily ever after.

For now...they had shops.

“I like shops,” he declared after their fourth one. “Shops are cool.”

“I agree,” Rose laughed, delightedly. Maybe it was because it was all part of this mad, wonderful adventure that the past few days had been but she found herself falling into an easy pattern with the new him: new mannerisms, new speech patterns, new tics (despite his argument against them) and she found herself loving him just as much for them. It would take a little while to discover everything new about him but she found she was looking forward to the experience. He was, after all, still the same man underneath. Whatever future her was going through, she knew they’d be all right. In fact, she suspected future her was already missing him. Smiling over at him shyly, her love blossomed in her chest and she felt like she could float. She was going to get forever with him after all...and his forever, not just hers. She had to be the luckiest girl in the entire universe. This daft, sweet, brave, selfless, funny alien man with the whole of time and space at his fingertips had chosen her. 

God, she loved him.

The Doctor stopped abruptly in the street and turned her to face him. She realized abruptly that there were tears in his eyes and the expression on his face was so ineffably sweet she almost couldn’t bear it. His eyes shone at her once more and she blushed as she realized she’d been broadcasting all those thoughts directly at him. He squeezed her hand. “Thank you,” he said, quietly.

Suddenly a familiar smell wafted up to them and the serious expression on his face turned to one of joyful abandon. “Do you know why else we love this planet?” he asked.

“Chips?” she ventured.

“Chips,” he agreed. “Come along, Tyler!” And with that, he took off sprinting down the street toward the delicious smell with Rose hot on his heels.

They slid into a booth, each with a basket of fried goodness and he smiled once again, watching his precious girl down their favourite treat. Thank Omega for small constants in their ever-changing world. Rose Tyler, it seemed, would always love chips.

And him, apparently. Thank Rassilon. 

“I like that ‘Come along, Tyler’, thing,” he said through a mouthful of chips. Still a bit rude then, as well. “I think I’ll say that a lot.”

“Allons-y doesn’t feel right in those new teeth of yours?” Rose asked.

“Nope,” he answered and they both felt a slight pang when he didn’t pop the ‘p’. “Met up with Jack and his new beau a while back and I finally did get to say ‘Allons-y, Alonzo’ so that’s one thing I can check off the list. I’ll need something to replace it, though.” He was going to miss ‘allons-y’. That had been a good catchphrase. Now it was falling by the wayside, just like his long-ago favoured ‘fantastic’. Maybe Rose was right. Maybe he did have tics. 

“You’ll think of something,” Rose said and they both quietly contemplated their chips for a moment. So she’d get to see Jack again. That was good. She was just going to ask him more about the good-looking Captain when he suddenly interrupted her thoughts.

“Well, what should I get you for a gift?” he asked to break the slightly awkward that had fallen over them. Fending off and eventually answering her questions about Jack was a task for past him. 

“I dunno,” Rose answered. “You probably know me better than I know me at this point. And blimey, there’s that weird thing again.”

“This may come as an immense surprise to you, Rose,” he said, standing up to throw away their chip wrappers, clearing the table and raising an eyebrow at her. “But women, you in particular, are the one area in which my considerable intellect and boundless knowledge seems to continually fall short.”

“Just the one?” Rose said, elbowing him, determined to fall back into the easy banter they had established earlier.

“Just the one,” he hummed in agreement, relaxing as she did, exiting the chip shop to pull her back out into the busy street. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and the two of them wandered down the street together, enjoying each other’s warmth. “So...present?”

“How ‘bout a red bicycle?” she asked suddenly, watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye. Damn. There went the playful banter. 

He paused a moment to consider her. This Rose was still looking for answers and somewhen out there in his past there was a desperate, hurting Tenth him waiting to give them to her. It was no use to give her the answers she sought now...she’d just have to forget it for the time being anyway and his Tenth self needed her to absolve him during their bonding. He sighed.

Women. Woman. Rose.

“That was you in the park, wasn’t it?” she asked, quietly. “Now that I’ve seen that face, I remember.”

“Yes,” he said, quietly. “It was right after the fall of Arcadia, before the final end. I came to say goodbye to the Earth. After decades and decades of death and destruction, I needed to remind myself why I was fighting that war, to give myself the courage to go finish what we had started. I just wanted to see all those silly little apes enjoying their lives one last time...but instead of simply finding my little blue-green planet of unconcerned aliens, I found one little human who was willing to take my hand and share Christmas with me. One little human who was willing to care for me, dark stranger that I was. One little human willing to love me, even just a little bit that cold night. You gave me the strength to go do what I had to do, Rose. I wanted to pay you back, somehow,” the Doctor finished quietly, begging her to understand, begging her to let it go for now.

Rose wrapped her arms around his thin torso, pulling him close to her and he pressed his lips into her hair right in the middle of the bustling sidewalk. “I know you have questions, Rose...and I promise that I’ll tell you everything, well, that I’ve told you everything. We’re married, remember?” he said, pulling away from her slightly to look down into her hazel eyes. “You know everything about me. We’re bonded...a part of me in you, yeah? You’ve seen it all. Who I am, where I’ve been, what I’ve done...and for some reason, you’ve stayed anyway. I’m so lucky to have found you. I promise once you get back to me, we’ll have this discussion and many, many more. You’ll know me. All of me,” he said, holding her eye contact and willing her to believe him. She nodded finally and he smiled. 

Taking advantage of her acceptance, he stepped back a little and gave her a slow, cheeky smile. “That all happens somewhere in between the massive amounts of shagging that Donna will complain so loudly about,” he finished, tilting his head to the side. “Of course, our loudness might have been one of the factors she was so vehemently against.”

Rose snickered into his shirt. “She sounds fantastic,” she said.

“She is,” the Doctor replied, smiling at her once again. “Much to your delight and my terror, you two get on like houses. Imagine my life now...not one, not two but three temperamental women controlling my every move,” he sighed heavily and Rose smacked his arm.

Laughing, Rose decided to let him off the hook. She knew she would have to forget this soon anyway, but she’d been waiting so long for answers. Oh well. What was another few days? “So, Mr. Tyler, whatcha going to get me for a present?” she asked, threading her arm into his.

“Mr. Tyler?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Well, you haven’t got a last name! Who am I, then, Mrs. Doctor?”

“You are the beautiful and brilliant Rose Tyler. Full stop. Anything else would just sound wrong. Just Rose Tyler,” he repeated, dropping his voice to its most seductive, aware of the control he had over her with just those two words. His Rose would have leaned in close and whispered his own name, his real name into his ear and they’d have been off to the TARDIS shamefully fast. It took him by surprise momentarily when this Rose didn’t do that, merely pouting at him and dragging him off toward one of the more promising looking shops. Of course, she didn’t, he shook himself. She’s not your wife yet, she doesn’t know your name, he reminded himself. The Doctor sighed. It was so strange to miss someone when they were standing right next to you. Perhaps this is what Rose felt every time he regenerated, he mused.

He turned his attention back to this Rose who had dragged him into one of the shops and was currently chattering away at some sales clerks, charming a store full of perfect strangers with her laughter and wit. He tightened his hand in hers and joined in her banter seamlessly. She was still Rose and she was still his. They fit and they always would.

The Doctor and Rose Tyler. As is should be.


	3. Eleven III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what future Rose has been up to on Earth. This chapter is dedicated to MaraSkywhiner who planted the seed for this interaction. Enjoy! I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Meanwhile on Earth...

Rose wandered through the park aimlessly, choosing her path at random. Donna had forced her outside, saying that the fresh air would make her feel better. She contemplated that. Did she feel better? 

She wasn’t sure. This trip, this separation, had been designed to help her deal with their latest trauma, but she wasn’t sure it was helping, really. 

Mostly, she just missed him. Her bond was screaming at her, desperate for him, reaching for him and he was still so far away. Perhaps asking for this little ‘vacation’ had been the wrong thing to do. She knew she’d been hurting him all week, holding back her mind and her touches and her words but everything had been so horrid...

She silently cursed the Thrizax again for doing this to them and then shuddered. She didn’t want to think about them. She didn’t want to think about any of it. Her bond with the Doctor had almost been severed and it had almost killed them both. As it was, she wasn’t certain how they’d managed to escape and they’d both been injured so badly... 

And when she had finally woken, instead of seeing the face she had grown so accustomed to over almost a century and a half of marriage, it had been to an unfamiliar hand in hers, unfamiliar eyes of a new colour watching her, and an unfamiliar voice calling her name. The trauma of his unfamiliarity coming so soon after that ordeal...she had reacted poorly and they’d both been hurt because of it.

It was still him, of course, and she knew it, knew in it her soul, in her mind, in her very bones but God, she missed him. It was him but not him. The one she had sought so desperately. The one she knew like the back of her hand The one she had finally found once again...

She’d known his next regeneration would come sometime and that ephemeral ‘sometime’ would always have been too soon but to come so suddenly after such a trauma and to not have had a chance to say goodbye to that body, the one born of sacrifice for her, the one of so many firsts... 

She loved him, would love him, of course. How could she not? He was the Doctor and she was Rose Tyler. It had always been her future to love him. This she also knew in her soul, in the little piece of him that lived within her, she just had to come to grips with his new face, his new tics, his new words, his new...him.

And she had hurt him so badly, she knew, this week. Hurt herself as well. Rose wondered how he was faring alone on the TARDIS right now. He was probably out of milk, hopped up on far more bananas than she’d ever let him eat and lonelier than hell. Then, with a start, she remembered that he wasn’t actually alone.

He was with her. Wasn’t that...wizard? (Oh, thank you, Donna.) 

Yeah. Wizard. And strange.

It’d been quite the shock that morning a few days ago when all those suppressed memories had come screeching back into her head. 

Still, it was good to know that her past was right on schedule and she remembered past her getting on with this him just fine.

Well, more than just fine, actually.

And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that either. He was hers and she hadn’t had chance to get to know him yet and yet she already knew him. Strange how she’d really already slept with him and yet hadn’t slept with him at all. Laughed with him, loved him and, ouch, even slapped him, yet hadn’t done any of those things.

He was so complicated. 

Turnabout’s fair play, he’d say. And he’d probably be right. Because at the moment she was very, very jealous.

Rose felt along her bond for him, millions of miles and years separated, but he was so far away, through time and space, it was distant. Still there, comforting in its presence but faint. She reached for him and caressed the bond, hoping he’d feel it. Two more days and then he would be back to pick her up and would expect to pick up where they had left off...yet she still felt like she had no more answers than she had five days ago. Past her will have helped him be ready to come back to her but she didn’t feel any different. 

Why was it so hard this time?

Sighing heavily, she settled on a cool stone bench along the path and transferred her head to her hands. She didn’t really want to be alone right now but Donna had been right about leaving the house. Wilf’s good-natured hovering had become a bit oppressive and she did feel a bit better out here in the open . If she ignored familiarity of 21st century London around her, she could almost imagine she was on a distant world, taking in new sights, breathing new air and, if she turned around, she would see him there: striding toward her with some alien treat in his hand, eager to share, a broad grin lighting his boyish face. Or tearing pieces of bread off to feed a gaggle of strange creatures who were busy stepping on his converse while she giggled at him. Or running toward her at top speed, being chased by god-knows-what hand outstretched for hers, all manic smiles and mischievous eyes, yelling ‘RUN’! Her heart constricted again, remembering that she’d never see that brown coat fluttering out behind him as plimsoles beat a steady path to the TARDIS. 

What was wrong with her? She’d done this before, all of it. Turned suddenly and startled, expecting blue eyes only to meet brown. Reached out in the darkness for a leather-coated sleeve only to hit wool instead. Skimmed a crowd and looked past crazy brown hair having been accidentally still looking for a close-cropped buzz. But still...one-hundred and forty-seven years. Her bioscans might register differently now but she was still fundamentally human and the human part of her was grieving him. 

Her grief washed through her again and it was accompanied by visions she’d been shutting out all week. All those things the Thrizax had made her see, the pain of the bond ripping at them both. She shuddered. And with those memories came hazy visions of what she suspected had freed them. According to his legends, Gallifreyans were capable of taking drastic measure in protection of their mates. 

And that’s not even considering what the TARDIS could do.

Or what she herself could do.

When he came for her, they were going to have to discuss what exactly had happened in those final moments on the Thrizax’s ship, but for now she just wanted to forget it all. Shifting slightly on her bench, she shored her shields up once again just in case there were any telepathic tourists wandering around this section of London. As she’d discovered over the last few decades, the Doctor wasn’t the only alien that frequented London.

Her eyes scanned the park, looking for a distraction and settled on a elderly man sitting alone at one of the stone chess boards near the lake. He appeared to be playing both sides of the board and the expression on his face was one of infinite sadness. Rose knew, if she wanted, she could look and see what was bothering the poor man but she had learned early on that, as a general rule, it was best not to peek into the minds of her fellow humans. One never knew what might be found in there.

Plus it was bit rude. And she had enough rudeness around her most of the time, she grinned to herself.

The grin quickly faded. Or she used to, anyway. She wasn’t sure now. Would he still be rude? He’d been painstakingly tentative and polite to her all week but that was more her than him. Even his tenth self could set aside his rudeness and his gob in the face of her wrath occasionally. That didn’t mean anything.

To distract herself, Rose stood up and walked over to the man. Time was drawing her toward him and it felt like she should and she’d learned long ago not to second guess those urges. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, standing beside the chair opposite from him.

The elderly man startled. He hadn’t noticed the girl approaching. Shameful, that was. Maybe he was getting old. “I suppose,” he said, crossly. 

“Chess is usually more fun played with another person,” the girl said to him, raising an eyebrow. 

“It is generally difficult for me to find an opponent worth playing, young woman,” he said, rather haughtily. Maybe if he was rude, she would go away.

To his surprise, she merely laughed. “I’m sure you do,” Rose answered. So he was an arrogant old sod. Well, she knew one of those, woke up next to one, made his tea and sparred with him on a daily basis. 

And her arrogant old sod so happened to be exceptional at chess. He’d met his match. “Mind if I give it a go?”

The man seemed to contemplate her offer for a moment, probably considering how much he wanted her to go away. Finally, he made a vague gesture with his hand and Rose took it as permission to have a seat. He cleared the board and reset the pieces, allowing her the first move.

Rose pushed forward one of her white chessmen and turned her most charming smile on him. “So what brings you to London?”

“What makes you think I’m not from London, hmm?” he countered her move and her question. Nosy humans. No propriety at all.

Rose considered the board for a moment before moving again. “Just seem like an out-of-towner,” she responded easily, effectively thwarting his advance.

To her surprise, the man snorted. “You’d be surprised,” he muttered, staring at her chess pieces 

This girl was annoyingly good at chess. And she seemed to have an odd aura about her but there was surely nothing interesting going on here in this simple little London park. She was just another ordinary human living her ordinary boring life. He’d had enough of humans, lately.

What could Susan possibly see in all of this?

“So what’s on your mind?” Rose asked casually, continuing their move-and-counter motion easily.

He glared at her sternly across the table. “Do you always walk up to strangers in parks and inquire about their personal business?” 

As he watched her closely, the girl looked up at him, stuck her tongue in her teeth in a surprisingly charming smile and said, “Yep! Pretty much!”

To his utter consternation, he found himself returning her smile. He must be going soft in his old age as well. “I’m afraid one as young as you wouldn’t understand,” he responded.

“You’d be surprised,” she muttered back to him. He was really quite good at chess. She was having a hard time circumventing his moves with traditional Earth attacks. Maybe she could try something off-world and he wouldn’t notice...Karpovian Forward, perhaps?

“Mmm? What was that?” he asked, distracted by her newest move. This simple little human had somehow stumbled into a 43rd century counter offensive! He frowned and concentrated, intent on examining her Timeline when she spoke again, distracting him.

“You sure there’s nothing bothering you?” Rose asked and he sniffed, ignoring her question.

They played in silence for a few moments, the slide of chess pieces across the board and the gentle lap of the lake to their side the only sounds in the air. Eventually, the man heaved a sigh and raised his eyes to look at her. “My grandaughter recently got married and I shall not see her again. I miss her fiercely,” he admitted, surprising himself.

“Does she love him? Is she happy?” Rose asked. He looked up at her.

“I believe so, yes,” he said, eventually. 

“Then you made the right decision,” she said, firmly. “Love is...complicated,” she finished, toying with the ring on her finger.

For moment he felt both oddly disappointed and strangely comforted to see that little human sign of commitment there. “And you? Trouble with your young man?”

Rose tried not to snort to herself again. The Doctor was anything but a ‘young man’. Instead she sighed and bit her lip, pretending to heavily consider the board. “Hit a bit of rough patch,” she finally admitted.

He said nothing in response. What advice could he possibly offer the little human on love, on relationships? He’d never loved, would never love. He was, after all, a Time Lord. And relationships...he had few friends on Gallifrey. His closest relationship at the moment was probably with his temperamental Type-40, hidden away behind a corner near the park, humming happily (and a bit superiorly - as if she knew something he didn’t) at him.

Rose, for her part, was concentrating heavily on the chessboard in front of her. She’d stumbled onto her first Doctor playing chess alone in the library shortly after she’d come onboard the TARDIS and she’d cajoled him into teaching her. He’d made a big fuss over it, rolled his eyes and huffed at her when she forgot the rules or made a particularly silly move but she didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up when she asked if he wanted to play. Or the way the chessboard appeared more and more frequently in the library during their wind-downs after an adventure. Or how their next trip had been to Karpov to watch a intergalactic chess tournament (which the Doctor, of course, had won - just before the whole convention turned into a hostage situation when some Fischerites decided it would be the perfect time for a war). They’d beat a hasty retreat to the TARDIS and his (slightly singed) trophy had somehow found its way to a prime spot on the mantle. 

She’d only ever beaten him once in that body and then only because the TARDIS had secretly given her a book of obscure strategies which she had painstakingly memorized to take him by surprise. The look on his face when she, very satisfactorily, had said,

“Check. Mate.” had been totally worth it. As it was right now.

The elderly man goggled at her and then looked down at the board. Rose had to hold in her slight laugh, but she couldn’t keep the twinkle from her eyes. 

The old man, rather comically looked between her and the chess board several times. There was no way around it. She’d won. How about that.

“You seem to have bested me,” he said, slightly begrudingly. The Doctor. Bested in a game of wits by a human. Oh, the things Chatterton would say about that.

“Don’t take it too hard,” she said, smiling that bizarrely charming tongue-in-teeth smile at him again. “I know a guy.”

He huffed at her slightly and began to clear the board, to erase the evidence that a human girl had just beat him at chess. He was going to have to practice more. Maybe a trip to Karpov...

“You seem lonely. You should find someone to do things with,” the girl said, kindly reaching out to stop his hand for a moment.

“I’m better off alone,” he said, keeping his eyes from hers and keeping his hand from her reach. 

“No one’s better off alone,” Rose responded quietly. “It’ll get better with time,” she finished, standing up from the table. 

The man across from her sighed. “Time has never been and yet will always be my biggest problem,” he said. 

Rose froze and looked more closely at him and suddenly her whole face lit up. That vain, sorry little git! Boy was he going to get it when she got home! Once she saw it, it was impossible to unsee. She could see the dance of Time around him, feel the pulse of his presence even this far back in his Timeline. He was young, so young, the closest he would ever be to her age, bizarrely enough. 

“Your young man,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, shuffling up to stand beside the table and almost blushing under her radiant smile. He reached up and grasped her shoulder. He blinked at the contact, as she suddenly shone, bright and golden, the apple of Time’s eye, just for a moment. It was exhilarating and terrifying and mystifying. The Doctor shook his head. “You love him?”

“Yeah, I do,” she said, smiling at him with eyes so brimming with emotion that he could almost swear he felt an echo of that love resonate through him. Curious. How very, very curious. Susan had found love. Maybe, just maybe, someday...

“Then I shall tell you what I told her,” the Doctor, of course it was the Doctor, replied. “There must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Go to him, go forward with him. The universe is a grand and wonderful place and when one has found someone to share it with, that, that is the greatest miracle of all and the only direction for you to go is forward. And now, goodbye, my dear. And...thank you,” he finished, his eyes boring into hers in a way she recognized instantly, in a way she would always recognize. In a way she would always love.

Rose watched in silence as the man ambled off to where she could now just see a blue police box parked in the distance. The TARDIS, who must have been hiding Herself and him from Rose, pulsed a joyful wave of orange welcome to her, rejoicing in Her first interaction with the little wolf who would one day save them all. The Doctor froze for a moment, feeling the wave of emotion from his TARDIS and turned back, mystified, to face the girl.

Rose smiled and gave him a cheeky little wave and he shook his head, turning back and walking toward the TARDIS once again. 

Time then, they both thought, to go forward.


	4. Eleven IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been FOREVER but here is second to last chapter for Royal. Thank you for sticking with me. I hope this one doesn't disappoint. One more after this for a little clean-up with Future Rose and Eleven and then it's on to Ten. I can't believe this saga that was never actually meant to be a saga has come this far. Again, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Back on Talania IV, Rose and the tweed-wearing, elbows-patched Doctor were wandering through the crowded market, each examining wares from brightly coloured peddler’s tents, trying to figure out what to buy. Rose was watching the Doctor carefully, not really seeing the bauble she held in her hand. He had been chattering at her, more thoughtful and introspective than his previous form but still chatty, poking her to make her laugh and haphazardly catching objects his long limbs had accidentally bumped from tables but she could tell he was covering something up. He missed her, future her, she could tell. She reflected a moment on what that was like, having him miss her when she was right here. Oh, they were quite the pair, weren’t they?

Just a few moments ago, he had stiffened suddenly and his eyes had taken on a faraway glance, like he was communicating with someone far, far away. He had sighed happily for a moment and then frowned, shadows covering his face as he seemed to relive something bad. Must be some sort of communication with future her, she guessed. He had excused himself from her and walked away, pausing in front of a booth to fiddle with something, glancing unseeingly at the object he held in his hand, his emerald eyes pained and his thin shoulders hunched. Her own heart constricted when she saw what he had unwittingly picked up. It was a small sample of bazoolium and he hadn’t even realized. That stupid little stone that represented their separation, a gift intended with love turned into a symbol of heartbreak. Sometimes the universe quite liked the salt-in-the-wound technique.

Walking over to him, she gently started to remove the stone from his hand, hoping to get him away from the booth before he realized what he had been holding. Instead, she had startled him from his heavy thoughts. “Rose, what -?” he began before shouting “Oh!” and dropping the bazoolium on the table as if it had burned him. Their eyes met above the counter and in silent agreement, they grabbed hands and quickly made their way as far from the small booth as possible.

As they made their way back to the TARDIS, his hand was still in hers but he was a million miles away. “Doctor,” Rose said softly, tugging on the hand that was dragging her through the street. “I’m right here,” she said, remembering his Eighth form’s words to her. “We’ll be fine. Just give it a little time.”

He sighed heavily, a gigantic, frustrated sound and dropped her hand once again, turning from her and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Rose, Time has never been, and yet will always be, my biggest problem,” the Doctor responded in a weary voice.

Rose watched then as he suddenly twirled around on his toes, his hands dropping from his eyes along with his jaw. He stood there, gaping widely at her in the middle of the street for so long that Rose considered asking him if was feeling strange. And then in the blink of an eye, he was on top of her, his mouth on hers, kissing her as though his life depended on it. Kissing her, devouring her, claiming her. His hands were everywhere at once, pulling her flush against him and Rose was certain that he was never, ever letting her go. 

And she was perfectly fine with that. Except, she did need to breathe...

Suddenly he ripped his mouth away from hers, holding her out at arms length, both of them with heaving chests and glazed eyes. “Chess!” he gasped finally, pulling her back flush against him. “Chess!”

“Chess?” Rose squeaked from his very, very tight hold.

“Yes! Chess, Rose Tyler!” the Doctor yelled, picking her up and twirling her around, almost knocking her legs into more than a few scandalized shopping patrons who had also witnessed the ferocious kissing several moments ago.

She squeaked again as he unexpectedly picked her up from the middle of the street and trotted with her in his arms back to the TARDIS across the square. “Doctor!” she giggled, delighted with his mad antics even if she didn’t understand him half of the time. 

“That’s because I only make sense half the time!” he crowed. “But you understand me even when I don’t make sense. Even when I’m grumpy and old and giving up. And complicated. And rude. You’re you, Rose Tyler, and you are wonderful!” he kissed her again, all awkward angles from holding her in his arms but Rose didn’t mind at all. She started to scramble for her key around her neck when he stopped and shifted, freeing one hand and balancing precariously with her in his arms and one foot against the TARDIS. She raised an eyebrow and he raised one right back before snapping his fingers and she watched, impressed, as the door sprang open. 

“Impressive, yeah?” he said, with a mad, smug grin.

Couldn’t let him be like that, could she? “I’ll be more impressed if you manage to get us inside without dropping me,” Rose laughed, as he nearly overbalanced straightening up.

“The thanks I get!” he laughed, sweeping inside with her and dropping her onto the jumpseat before turning back the console. 

“Where are we going?” Rose asked, swinging her feet and watching him as he leapt around the console. Her funny, bright, mysterious alien man. Her Doctor. 

“Forward, my dear, darling, beautiful human. My Rose,” he said, twirling on his toes again, circling twice before coming to stop in front of her, bending to kiss her again with breathless intensity. 

“Forward!” he shouted, throwing his head back and pulling the lever to take them out of the Vortex. And somewhere deep inside him, ten voices raised up with his own, among them booming out the loudest: a Manchester brogue, an Estuary lilt and, surprisingly enough, a proper Englishman whose voice, though brittle with age, rang out loud and clear through the centuries. ‘Forward!’ they all shouted.

“All right, then!” Rose whooped with him, joining in his evident mirth with delight. “Geronimo!”

Forward, indeed.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They came to an abrupt stop, Rose and the Doctor clattering to the floor in a pile of long limbs and laughter. His eyes sparkled as he jumped to his feet and pulled Rose up with him. “What’s out there?” Rose breathed, her eyes alight the the same excitement that would rise there even one-hundred and forty seven years later whenever they landed at a new place. 

She’d been right. Of course, she’d been right. She was the same, he was the same and they would, of course, be fine. Better than fine, actually. 

Fantastic, brilliant, molto bene, peachy-keen.

Oh. Maybe not that last one. 

But anyway, here they were! The Doctor and Rose Tyler. In the TARDIS. And soon to be in the correct TARDISes. As they should be. 

Rose ran over to the door and pulled it open, gasping as she saw the familiar red, rocky outcropping and the even more familiar blue box sitting just meters away.

“Is that - ?” she started, leaning back against the door and automatically reaching a hand out for his.

“Yes,” he said, smiling gently and taking her hand. Rose’s eyes never left the lonely blue box outside. 

“And it’s -?” 

“Yes,” he said again, pulling her in close to him and pressing a kiss into her hair. “This is where you promised me forever. I figured it was the best place to wait for you and make sure you kept it.”

Rose turned back to him with tears in her eyes and he bent down to kiss each eyelid, to erase the sign of her tears. “I’m home?” she asked, quietly. 

“You’re home,” he responded. Drawing him in tightly, Rose clung to his waist and let her tears fall into his cotton shirt. He rubbed her back and waited until her tears had subsided. “Now, we’re hidden behind these rocks and he doesn’t know we’re here yet... and there’s still a few things we need to do.”

With that, he took her hand and led her off to their bedroom. Rose showered and changed back into the clothes she had been wearing when she’d burst into his TARDIS yesterday and charged up the ramp at him and they only got distracted a few times along the way (although the Doctor ended up with an additional shower and, by the end of the dressing, was decidedly less clothed than Rose). He gave her the book the TARDIS had hidden from him all those years ago, placed her red pack back on her shoulders and, as they stood locked together at the doors of his TARDIS once again, he gently hid the memories of this encounter behind shields set to drop at breakfast one hundred and forty seven years later to terrify his new gangly bow-tied self into thinking she might not want him anymore. 

Kissing her one last time, he set her gently sleeping form right outside the door of his TARDIS. She would wake up in just a moment and he needed to get back inside before she saw him or he’d just have to lock the memory again. Bending down to press his lips to hers once more, he swept her hair back from her face and took a moment to recall how, in just a few seconds, a broken, sad-eyed, pinstriped man was about to discover that life was finally worth living again.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear and, once again, ten voices echoed along with his. Her Doctors, every one of them. 

The Doctor slipped away, back into his TARDIS, to pick up his wife.

After all, she owed him a rematch. “Geronimo!” he thought with a smile.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rose sat up at the sound of the TARDIS dematerializing. She looked around frantically and saw, just across the clearing, the TARDIS that she had been looking for all along. It’d been a bit rude of his Ninth form to pop off and leave her like that, unconscious outside his door (and had she been unconscious? She couldn’t quite remember) but he had probably had his reasons. 

She’d make him tell her in a moment. 

Right after she finished snogging him senseless.

Because this was him. The one from her Timeline. Suit, trainers, mad gob and really, really great hair. She knew it, knew it in a way she didn’t understand but accepted without question. He was there, just there, just on the other side of a few rocks and some transdimensional wood and soon not even that would separate them. She’d started on this mad journey almost two weeks ago and those two weeks didn’t even compare with the three years she’d spent with only memories of him to sustain her. 

She got to her feet and ran across the clearing. Should she knock? Use her key? Snap her fingers? (And wasn't that an odd thought?). The TARDIS solved the quandary for her by popping the door herself, the warm flow of welcome coming from the Timeship almost bowling Rose over. 

Breathless, she stood in the doorway of home and swept her eyes over the beautiful, familiar coral, settling on the back of the pinstriped man in front of her.

He was facing away from her, hands in his hair and he’d frozen on the spot when he’d felt the TARDIS’ welcome wash over him. He’d heard the door open, heard the heavy, familiar sounds of her breath, smelled the overwhelming, wonderful scent of Rose and calculated a thousand other minute details about her from his position facing away but he couldn’t move. He’d had this dream so many times that it had turned into a nightmare. It was never real, it was never true. His senses would tempt him, would cajole him, would make him believe and then reality would hit him with a cold pillow and an empty bed. “Is this a dream, Donna?” he asked and Rose heard the fear and desperate hope in his voice. “Is...is she really there?”

If Rose’s eyes had been able to move away from the Doctor, she might have noted the severe redhead standing over his shoulder watching with tear-filled eyes but she couldn’t see anything but the beautiful Time Lord in front of her. Because she’d had this dream, too. And if she blinked, she might wake up.

Donna smiled gently at him, nodding over his shoulder to Rose. He deserved the universe, this daft spaceman who had wandered it for so long wishing for a hand to hold, wishing, in fact, for that hand to hold. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”


	5. Eleven V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the third installment of Shades of Blue. Thank you so much for sticking with this series and with me. I hope you enjoy their reunion. 
> 
> I have big plans to visit them in the Interludes for some future adventures including future-Rose re-exploring all that territory she hasn't had a chance to see yet since her past encounter with him.

Rose sat at the chess table fiddling with the stone pieces as the sound of the TARDIS dematerializing rang out across the park. ‘Move forward’ he had said, both in her past and her present. And, she thought, she was ready to do that. They were still going to have some rough patches, some things to work through, when she prepared his tea as he used to like it or accidentally looked past him in a crowd or when he rambled something new and expected her to understand, not to mention whatever had happened in those final hours with the Thrizax, but they would be all right.

Better than all right, actually. Fantastic. Brilliant. And...well, she wondered what his new word would be. And found she couldn’t wait to hear him say it .

Right on cue, the glorious sound of him returning to her once more reverberated across the pond and into her heart. She looked up just in time to see his new gangly figure bounce from the TARDIS, his eyes fixed on her at the small stone table. She offered him a small, tentative smile and opened her mind to him. The mad, brilliant grin he gave her in response chased away the last of her doubts and, by the time he reached her, they were both beaming at each other like idiots. 

“I believe, Ms. Tyler, that you owe me a rematch,” he said, sliding his lanky form into the chair across from her like a languid cat.

Rose dropped her voice down low and stuck her chin in the air, “It is generally difficult for me to find an opponent worth playing, young man,” she said, stealing his haughty words from their earlier meeting. He laughed as the full memory of the experience so, so many years ago, shone brightly at him in her memory and she returned the sound, dropping the fake hauteur for her tongue caught in her teeth.

“You should have called me that back then,” the Doctor replied, resetting the pieces on the board. “You actually were older than me at that point in my Timeline.”

Rose gaped at him and then laughed once more. Rassilon, it was good to hear her laugh like that. He didn’t miss the tentative looks she gave him inbetween smiles or the shy way her foot was brushing against his when, two weeks ago, she would have been out-brazening him with the best of them. “You’re mad,” she finally said, reaching out to twine her fingers with his, pausing them over his chess pieces.

“And you’re stuck with me,” he replied, deep emerald eyes instead of brown or blue peering into her but she didn’t see the colour. All she could see was the man she loved.

“Stuck with you...that’s not so bad,” she said quietly, leaning forward and offering the words to him with the same reverence she had when they’d been trapped on an impossible planet above a black hole ready to take on the Devil himself. 

“Yeah?” he breathed, moving forward as well, so their lips were inches from each other over the chessboard. The hand not entwined with hers on the cold stone, reached up to tuck back a stray hair and then stayed on her cheek.

“Yeah,” she answered, closing her eyes and letting her lips and her mind meet his. It was tentative, shy and gentle, just as it had been the very first time he’d kissed her in his Eighth body, more an expression faith and understanding than intent. They languidly explored one another rather chastely, relearning and renewing. There would be time for passion and haste and torn off clothing and frantic sex on the edge of the kitchen table later. For now, it was just them.

“It’s about bloody time!” rang out Donna’s sharp voice and both of them shot back into their seats like chastened teenagers, blushing wildly. “Oh, none of that,” Donna snorted. “Not like I haven’t seen the two of you doing far worse. Need I bring up the Kitchen Incident of 2014?” she snarked, delighting in watching them both blush an even deeper shade of red.

“I’ve told you before Donna, it wasn’t 2014,” the Doctor mumbled, fiddling with the chess pieces in his now unoccupied hands and then going to his bowtie. “There is no Time in the Vortex.”

“Well, can’t just call it the Kitchen Incident, now can I?” she continued, determined to bring them together in their embarrassment. “Too many of those not to a have some sort of qualifier. That one, however, ‘took the cake’, if you get what I mean,” she said, elbowing Rose, who was now hiding her face in her hands. Donna Noble, master of all romantic endeavors, that was her. Bringing together idiot Time Lords and silly humans since well...she had no bloody idea.

She’d eventually demanded her own kitchen.

“Anyway, don’t mind me. Just wanted to come check on Blondie here,” she turned her attention to Rose. “Grandad’s making fish and chips tonight. Are you and chin-boy here going to make it?”

Rose managed “yes” over a snort of laughter and the Doctor’s indignant “Chin-boy?”

“So, you coming now or what?” Donna said, impatiently, tapping her foot as neither of them moved.

“We’ll be along in a bit, Donna,” Rose answered, still sniggering at the Doctor who was currently trying to look at his own chin.

“Got a game to finish,” he said, finally, sullenly giving up his quest to examine his chin. Younger Rose hadn’t seemed to mind it.

Donna’s eyes narrowed at him. “That’s not some weird martian way of saying you’re going to shag Rose here on this table, is it? Because it’s a park. In the middle of the day. And there are children about, you know,” winking at Rose and with that, she turned on her heel and strode away leaving the Doctor sputtering and Rose howling with laughter. As she reached the edge of the path, she looked up to see Rose reach over and gently stroke his (rather prominent) jaw line, evidently soothing his damaged ego.

Her job here was done, then, she smiled. 

Back in her own seat, Rose settled into an easy silence with him, watching the Doctor out of the corner of her eye as the two of them focused on the slide of the chess pieces across the board. He absently fiddled with his bowtie, bounced up and down in his seat, bobbed his head and looked around constantly, his eyes always seeking out something elsewhere but always subtly returning to her. Still full of manic energy, then...and still worried what she was thinking of him. She wondered why he didn’t just use their bond to see...she wasn’t shielding now but he wasn’t engaging it. Must be trying to give her a little space.

The Doctor watched Rose watch him, trying not to make her feel pressured. He knew she was cataloguing his new traits and tried to relax into them. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to do now, but he knew Rose would notice. Rose always noticed. Just like he knew, without even looking, that her teeth would be sunk into her lower lip as she contemplated her next move. Her foot would be absently tapping the ground, darting over to nudge his and then returning back. Her fingers would be twining in and out of her blonde locks, now a more natural shade than when they’d first met, but still perfectly Rose.

“So, we’ll make it then?” he asked, sliding his queen forward to bring their game to an end. Rose glanced up at him. He wasn’t referring to Wilf’s fish and chips and she knew it.

“We’ll make it,” she replied, conceding him the win and standing up, hand outstretched to him. He took it, locking his fingers with hers and then moved to stand behind her, the two of them locked together, staring out over the pond to the setting sun over London’s skyline, the Eye just visible in the distance.

“Forward,” he said, pressing a kiss into her hair, finally letting his mind fully envelop hers as it was meant to do, as they were meant to do.

“Forward,” she answered and somewhere, somewhen, across the annals and anterooms of Time: a young, scared blonde swings on a chain to save an old, scarred soldier while a distraught girl presses herself against a white wall, straining for one last touch of a battered man’s hand; a heartbroken woman watches as the man she loves crashes through a window for another while a redeemed man gives up his life for the woman who saved him, body, mind and soul; a business woman knocks an arrogant toff onto his britches covered bum in a parallel world where she never belonged while a woman, determined but fearful, steps through a blue door to face the man she never thought she would see again.

And, she realized, in some ways he was wrong. There will always be regrets, there will always be tears, there will always be anxieties...that was a part of living, a part of life itself, the deepest pits as well as the soaring heights. But, most importantly...

There will always be love.


End file.
